


Loyal

by trysomecats



Series: Melida/Daan Probation [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Force Visions, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Temple (Star Wars), Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Post Melida/Dann, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series References, probation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trysomecats/pseuds/trysomecats
Summary: Obi-Wan has a vision that leaves him in tears, and Qui-Gon learns how to be a master once again.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Melida/Daan Probation [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798048
Comments: 42
Kudos: 469





	Loyal

Afternoons spent in Master Tilbu’r’s advanced composition course always seemed to drag on endlessly for Obi-Wan. Perhaps it had to do with the class being his last one of the day, or maybe it was because Master Tilbu’r was Obi-Wan’s least favorite instructor. The elderly Master always seemed to critique Obi-Wan more than his other peers throughout the years (he’d had her as an initiate for both beginners' composition and historical prose). 

Obi-Wan would certainly enjoy writing more if Master Tilbu’r wasn’t constantly belittling his work. He still remembered how she had criticized a poem that he had spent weeks lovingly crafting for a class project when he was ten; she had read it aloud to the entire class and then proceeded to tear it apart. It had left his spirits crushed for days. Obi-Wan couldn’t recall a time when he received positive praise from the master; despite his grade being among the top in the class, he still always left feeling unaccomplished.

Unfortunately, her attitude had only worsened since his return from Melida/Daan. Despite Obi-Wan knowing that her attitude was warranted this time around, he couldn’t help but dread the class even more than usual. 

Presently, Obi-Wan tried his best to listen to Master Tilbu’rs’ lecture, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. His head was beginning to hurt, and he had to hold back from jiggling his leg impatiently. Once he was finished with this class, he would have saber training with his master, which was a discipline that Obi-Wan always enjoyed, no matter how challenging Qui-Gon’s training tended to be. 

“...And, therefore, I will leave it up to each individual to choose which aspect of the Code to write your composition on. However, I highly suggest discussing potential ideas with your masters. You could choose an aspect that you follow the closest, or perhaps one that you often struggle to follow. One of you might choose meditation, for example, or perhaps integrity, or _loyalty_.”

Obi-Wan had to resist flinching when Master Tilbu’r made eye contact with him as she spoke the last word. It might have been a coincidence, or it might not have been. Either way, Obi-Wan knew that he really would be writing his composition on loyalty. It wasn’t a secret that Obi-Wan was on probation right now; he had a lot to make up for, both to his master and to the Jedi as a whole. 

“Now, there isn’t going to be any specific assigned length, but as the rank of a Padawan learner, I expect you to know whether or not your paper is long enough. You aren’t initiates anymore, so leeway will be miniscule when it comes to mechanics, style, and content. Furthermore-”

Anything else Master Tilbu’r had to say regarding their upcoming composition quickly became lost to Obi-Wan as the room turned into a disorienting red haze. The desks, chairs, and windows faded away and were replaced by fiery lava that was hot, searing, and swirling. The air was filled with the pungent, nauseating aroma of burnt human flesh. There were agonizing screams, but it was impossible to tell where they were coming from, or who was screaming. Obi-Wan was hit by a feeling of anger that was intense enough to make his heart beat rapidly, especially due to the fact that the emotion was overlapped with unfathomable suffering. 

It was hard to say how much time had passed. Obi-Wan remained frozen in place, though it was hard to breathe and he could feel his hands trembling. The smell made him want to throw up. 

_“I hate you!”_

Whoever was screaming really did hate him. Despite still not knowing what was happening, or who was speaking, Obi-Wan felt his eyes well with tears, and his chest hurt with sadness. It felt as though he’d suffered a major failure, like his heart was breaking….

It hurt so much.

“-bi-Wan? Obi-Wan!” 

The padawan blinked back tears, twisting toward the familiar and comforting voice of his master. In an instant, the unfamiliar scene was gone before his eyes, and he was back in the classroom, staring up at the sleek white ceiling and the crystalline windows. To his surprise, his master was leaning over him, his blue eyes filled with concern. 

“There you are,” Qui-Gon sounded relieved. “Stay still, Padawan, and focus on your breathing. You’ve had quite a vision.”

Master Tilbu’r was quietly ushering the students away, dismissing the class and giving them privacy. Obi-Wan inhaled deeply through his nose, and then gagged. The last remains of the vision were still prominent, and he could smell trace remains of burnt flesh. Bile was quick to rise in his throat, and soon he was choking up the contents of his stomach. 

He was pulled into a more upright position, until he was rested halfway in his master’s lap, trying to control his erratic breathing and stop his stomach from churning. One of Qui-Gon’s hands ran through his damp hair, and the Jedi Master used the outside of his sleeve to wipe away the sick that trailed from his apprentice’s mouth. 

“It’s alright,” Qui-Gon continued to soothe. “Keep breathing slowly. Focus on your surroundings....” 

“M’Alright,” Obi-Wan said after a moment, when he was sure that he wouldn’t be sick again. The terrible smell was beginning to fade, and he could think a little more clearly now. The last thing he wanted was to disrupt the class any more than it already had been; now Master Tilbu’r had another reason to dislike him. Never before had a student caused such a commotion in her classroom. 

Qui-Gon helped him onto his feet. His legs were weak and shaky, but Obi-Wan was able to stand by himself. Still, Qui-Gon kept a hand on his shoulder to steady him. 

“Thank you for contacting me so quickly, and for aiding my padawan,” Qui-Gon said to Master Tilbu’r as they passed her. Obi-Wan actively avoided looking at the master, but he could imagine the sharp glare she was likely giving him. 

“Yes, well, I’m sure the students were happy to be dismissed early,” Master Tulbu’r sniffed. If it was an attempt at humor, then it was a poor one. Obi-Wan was already dreading the date of his next class with her. 

Together, master and padawan navigated the temple halls. Obi-Wan wasn’t paying much attention to where they were going until he realized that they weren’t heading to their own quarters. Instead, they were traveling a very familiar and dreaded route. 

“Wait!” He stopped in his tracks. “Please Master, I don’t need a healer. I’m alright now, I am!” 

“You’ve experienced a very intense vision, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said gently. “It would benefit you to be checked over.”

“Please, Master?” Obi-Wan pleaded. His eyes began to pool with tears again, the deep, consuming emotions of the vision creeping back into his mind. He wanted nothing more than to be away from everyone except for his master, tucked away safely in their shared quarters. 

Qui-Gon’s calloused thumb brushed the tears away from his padawan’s eye’s. He seemed rather dismayed, but unwilling to cause his student any more distress “Alright, we won’t go to the healing halls.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said gratefully. He must have fallen into thinking deeply again, because it seemed as though they had reached their shared quarters in the blink of an eye. Still under his master’s guiding hand, Obi-Wan entered his small and tidy room, where he stripped down to his underclothes and climbed into his small bed. 

Qui-Gon disappeared for only a moment, coming back with a cool cloth and a glass of water. 

“Obi-Wan,” he took a seat on the edge of the padawan’s bed. “I know you might not want to, but it’s important that we discuss what you saw in your vision.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. “Yes, Master. Only- I don’t think I can bear to speak about it right now.”

“I know it won’t be easy,” the master said consolingly, resting the damp cloth against his pupil’s brow. “But I would not ask it of you unless it was necessary. You were unresponsive for over twenty minutes. That’s a very long time to be caught in a vision.” 

It took several moments of gathering his thoughts before Obi-Wan dared to speak. 

“I’m not sure where I was, or what was happening. But there was fire...and- someone was suffering. They were burning, both inside and out. The smell…” He trailed off then, fighting back a flare of nausea. “Master, whoever was suffering- I’ve never felt such hate before, and it was directed at me. I think that somebody really, truly hated me, and wanted me to...to suffer...” 

Obi-Wan blinked back more tears, a small sob hitching in the back of his throat. He was struggling to maintain his composure, which brought on a whole new wave of humiliation. Why did he always have to cause his master so much trouble? 

Qui-Gon continued running the cool cloth down his fevered cheeks. If he was concerned about what Obi-Wan had described, he didn’t show it outwardly. His calmness never failed to impress Obi-Wan. 

“Remember, Padawan, the future is always in motion, and visions can very easily be misinterpreted. Nevertheless, I think it would be a wise idea if we both speak to Master Yoda about it, once you are feeling better.” 

“Yes, Master.”

“Thank you for telling me. Why don’t you try to get some rest now?” 

* * *

Obi-Wan slept feverishly for the remainder of the afternoon. When he roused a few hours later, his fever still persisted, and so Qui-Gon decided that they would take it easy for the rest of the evening and not partake in saber training or hand-to-hand combat as they usually did once the padawan was finished with his classes for the day. 

Instead, Qui-Gon guided Obi-Wan through some light healing meditation in hopes of helping the fever break. Unfortunately, it only seemed to wear Obi-Wan further. If the fever was still there in the morning, then Qui-Gon would have no choice but to take his padawan to the healers and ask for their assistance. 

Visions, even mild, were known to cause mild illness in young force users. Longer visions like the one Obi-Wan had experienced were more than often accompanied by a fever and general malaise. Nevertheless, it was still rather unnerving to see Obi-Wan so still and quiet. 

Qui-Gon hadn’t had an apprentice so attuned to the unifying force before, but this wasn’t the first time he’d had a sick padawan. The times that Xanatos had fallen ill as a padawan, he had always been clingy and humorously dramatic about his predicament. He would insist on lounging on the couch in the common area of their quarters, and ask continuously for cups of tea and a hand to rub his back. Qui-Gon, of course, willingly indulged him whenever this had happened. 

Qui-Gon felt his heart ache at the memory, and then the feeling only increased and changed to guilt when he realized how very different Obi-Wan and Xanatos were as individuals. It had been sorely unfair of him to compare Obi-Wan to his former apprentice, and especially so harshly during the beginning of their partnership. 

Obi-Wan hadn’t asked anything of him the entire afternoon, not even a cup of tea or a glass of water. Instead, he stayed quiet and out of the way, as if in an effort not to inconvenience his master. Qui-Gon was still getting to know his apprentice on a personal level; he knew Obi-Wan was generally a polite boy to begin with, but he feared that his behavior around him, which sometimes bordered on being meek, was a learned behavior that was entirely Qui-Gon’s fault.

If his fears turned out to be true, Qui-Gon knew that he would have to spend a great deal of time in order to rectify his errors in order to ensure that his padawan was getting a full and insightful experience out of their partnership. 

Qui-Gon sought out his padawan when he sensed that the other had woken. 

“Obi-Wan,” he greeted the youngster, who was propped up in bed and using his datapad. “How are you feeling?”

“Well enough, Master,” Obi-Wan answered, smiling enough for his dimples to show. He seemed to be in higher spirits after his most recent doze, which meant that hopefully the vision was not so abundantly on his mind anymore. “I’m working on my composition essay for Master’s Tilbu’r’s class. It’s a large part of our final grade for the course.”

“Would you like me to look over what you have so far?”

“Thank you Master, but it’s alright. I’m not very far into it yet.” 

“Alright,” Qui-Gon said, but he couldn’t bear the thought of his feverish padawan alone in his quarters any longer. “Why don’t you come out to the common area to work on it? I’ll make both of us tea, and you can rest on the couch while I procure something for dinner.” 

“Alright, Master,” Obi-Wan agreed easily. He followed Qui-Gon from his room, his datapad clutched in the crook of his arm and a blanket trailing behind him. His russet hair stuck up in endearingly wild patches, but his cheeks were still flushed a concerningly bright pink.

Qui-Gon ensured that his padawan was settled before going to make a pot of fresh tea. Not fifteen minutes after Obi-Wan had moved to the couch, he dozed off, curled inward against the cushions. Qui-Gon had to smile at the sight. He took the throw blanket from its place on the back of the couch and covered his padawan. Then, he caught sight of Obi-Wan’s datapad, which was on the verge of sinking in between the cushions. Upon rescuing it, he glanced at the screen and saw that Obi-Wan’s unfinished essay was still open. 

He could at least read what Obi-Wan had and make any necessary corrections. Even though Obi-Wan had never openly complained, Qui-Gon knew that he struggled in his advanced composition course, despite still having a generally high grade. He knew personally that his padawan was a fine writer, and he had an inkling that it had to do more with Master Tilbu’r than it did with the actual course, but nonetheless, he wanted to help Obi-Wan get through it as much as he was able to. 

Using his own datapad, Qui-Gon brought up Obi-Wan’s academic profile, where he had access to all of his padawan’s courses, grades, and assignments. He found the writing assignment and read through the prompt and rubric. His eyes narrowed when he read that the padawan was strongly encouraged to talk with his or her master in order to decide which aspect of the code to write their compositions on. Obi-Wan hadn’t asked for his opinion at all, which meant either two things: Obi-Wan was not comfortable asking him, or he had already made up his mind without needing a discussion. Qui-Gon hoped that it was the latter, and not the former. 

As he began to read Obi-Wan’s assignment, Qui-Gon smiled when he discovered what Obi-Wan was choosing to write about: loyalty. It was well chosen; Obi-Wan embodied a kind of loyalty that was rare to see in most padawans, especially at such a young age. 

As he read on and got further into the subject, however, Qui-Gon quickly became horrified. Obi-Wan wasn’t writing about one of his strengths. He was writing about an aspect of the code that he struggled with, or in the padawan’s own words, had failed to follow. He spoke of betraying his master, and the impact that it had left on the Jedi community as a whole. 

Ordinarily writing a self-reflection regarding failure was used as a method of guidance and discipline, but Obi-Wan’s paper was far too overcritical. Despite only getting a few paragraphs in, Qui-Gon couldn’t bear to continue reading the harsh self-criticism. It was a good thing that Obi-Wan hadn’t gotten too far into writing his essay, because it was completely unacceptable. 

Qui-Gon thought that the incident on Melida/Daan was behind them. Obi-Wan had been doing splendidly during his time on probation, between his positive weekly meetings with various council members as well as his excellent grades. Although he hadn’t yet mentioned it to Obi-Wan, Mace had just spoken to Qui-Gon this morning about putting an end to the padawan’s probation, as it was clear that he was fully dedicated to the order and ready to go on active duty once again. 

Furthermore, the probation was just as much for Qui-Gon as it had been for Obi-Wan; it was to ensure that their master-apprentice bond could be strengthened. Their rocky beginning was no secret to the council, and it was certainly a contribution as to why Obi-Wan had stayed behind on Melida/Dann in the first place. Additionally, Qui-Gon had come to see his own mistakes as well, through talks with Tahl, Yoda, and his own self-reflection. 

What was important was the fact that both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had erred, and it was no sole individual’s fault. Even more importantly, they both had time to recover and reflect on what had happened. 

Unfortunately, it was clear that Obi-Wan was still struggling. This self-deprecating behavior was not good; although a Jedi was encouraged to be modest, there was a fine line between modesty and a complete lack of self-confidence. 

As if sensing Qui-Gon’s displeasure, Obi-Wan’s eyes began to flutter open, and he let out a small, sleepy huff. 

“Mahster,” his voice was thick with sleep, and he rubbed his bleary eyes with his fists as he sat in an upright position on the couch. “I didn’t mean to doze off like that.” 

“It’s alright, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said. He rose from his chair and felt Obi-Wan’s cheek with the back of his hand, frowning as he did so. “You’re still feverish.”

“I feel much better than I did earlier,” Obi-Wan offered in response. It was true; he felt as though much of his energy had returned, and the previous nausea and headache had both faded. He was slightly chilled, but that was likely being caused by the fever. 

“I’m glad,” Qui-Gon told him. “You’re the first padawan I’ve had that has received such a lengthy vision before.”

“My longest one was over two hours,” Obi-Wan revealed, grinning. “I was six, then. Usually they aren’t so long, or even as frequent as they used to be. Master Yoda spent a lot of time helping me navigate them when I was younger.” 

Qui-Gon looked contemplative. Obi-Wan didn’t know it at the time, but his master was planning on discussing Obi-Wan’s visions in depth with Master Yoda. He wanted to be as prepared as possible, especially if Obi-Wan had an even longer vision in the future. 

“Obi-Wan, we need to have an important discussion,” Qui-Gon said, changing the subject. He sat next to his padawan on the sofa. “It concerns your most recent assignment for Master Tilbu’r’s class.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan felt himself pale, remembering that he had nodded off when he was supposed to be working on the assignment. “I...it’s not due for another two weeks, Master. I promise I’ll get it completed in time. I truly want to succeed in the class.”

“Padawan, this doesn’t concern the due date; I already know you’ll have it completed on time. I took a look at what you have so far. Tell me, is there a reason why you didn’t discuss the assignment with me before you started to write it?” 

“I-,” Obi-Wan resisted the urge to squirm. “I didn’t feel that it was needed, Master. I already had a topic picked out.” 

“If you had brought the topic up with me, do you know what I would have told you your biggest strength was?” Qui-Gon asked, and continued when his padawan shook his head. “Loyalty. How can you call loyalty one of your weaknesses, when you have proven to be the complete opposite? You followed me to Telos, knowing full well that it was without the council’s support, and that it was severely dangerous. You were willing to give up your very life on Bandomeer, in order to save me and the planets’ inhabitants. And, although it has taken me time to fully comprehend, I know that you didn’t stay on Melida/Daan as an act of betrayal. You stayed because of the compassion you felt for the children and people who were suffering.”

When Obi-Wan looked down at his hands, Qui-Gon reached out and took a gentle hold of his chin, tilting his face up so that they could maintain eye contact. 

“Your weakness, my padawan, is understanding your limitations. Your compassion is limitless; you act on it as any good Jedi should. But you have trouble accepting that, sometimes, one person can only do so much. There are times when, although it feels like a failure, there is no other option than to take a step back from the problem. The galaxy is far too large to rest on the shoulders of a thirteen year old boy.” 

“Moreover, it is clear that I have failed to make myself clear about Melida/Daan. You are not solely to blame for what has happened. I should never have left you there in the first place. My duty as your master is to look after you. I should have taken the time to understand your point of view, but instead I was too focused upon Tahl’s wellbeing due to my attachment to her; as you know, we are childhood friends, and she is very dear to me. However, that is not an excuse; even Masters are not without failings. I am truly sorry, Padawan. I should have said so long ago.”

“I’m sorry too, Master,” Obi-Wan whispered, his voice trembling. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Qui-Gon said firmly. “It was a learning experience for us both, but as a result it has only strengthened us. Do you understand, my dear padawan?” 

“Y-Yes, Master, I do,” Obi-Wan said, wiping at his eyes. “Thank you. I’ll change the topic of my assignment. I just…”

“Yes?” Qui-Gon gently prompted when Obi-Wan stopped.

“I’m not sure if Master Tilbu’r will be agreeable.”

“I will speak to Master Tilbu’r myself,” said Qui-Gon. 

“That’s really not necessary, Master!”

“I think that it is,” Qui-Gon said. “I know that she can be a difficult instructor. I had her myself when I was around your age.”

“I think she’s very displeased about the Melida/Daan incident,” Obi-Wan confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Qui-Gon’s face hardened slightly. “Melida/Daan is not her concern. She is not your master, and the situation is already being dealt with. Your probation is coming to an end very shortly; the council is quite pleased with your progress.” 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan’s eyes widened a bit, but he became pleased. “That’s good to hear. Thank you, Master.” 

“There’s no need to thank me,” Qui-Gon said. “Obi-Wan, you are young, but already I can see the man that you will one day grow into. I was not fair to you during the beginning of your apprenticeship. Our mission on Telos has given me great cause for reflection. You could never be like Xanatos; you are far too pure.” 

Then, Qui-Gon acted on pure instinct, opening his arms and pulling his padawan in for a hug. Obi-Wan stiffened for only the barest moment before easily accepting the gesture of affection. He carefully returned the embrace, resting a warm and fevered cheek in the junction of Qui-Gon’s neck. 

Qui-Gon had never displayed such affection to his padawan before; more often than not he only delivered a simple pat on the shoulder as a form of praise. From the gentle ripple of delight that was leaking from his padawan’s force signature, Qui-Gon endeavored to make hugging his newest student a more regular occurrence. 

When their hug ended, Qui-Gon kept one arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. The padawan leaned into his side, seemingly quite content. 

“Master?”

“Yes?” 

“If my probation is being lifted, does that mean we can start going on missions once more?”

Qui-Gon suppressed a chuckle at the obvious eagerness that his padawan was trying to conceal. “Yes, it does. But only if you are in good health. If your fever is not gone by tomorrow, then we shall notify Master Che.”

Obi-Wan grimaced. “It will be gone by tomorrow, Master, I’m sure of it.” 

“We’ll see,” Qui-Gon said, though he had a feeling that his padawan was correct. Already he seemed to be well on the mend. 

**Author's Note:**

> The incident on Melida/Daan has always bothered me, especially since Obi-Wan seems to take most of the blame for it. I wrote this to ease some of my heartache for him. I hope you enjoyed; Any kind of feedback would be much appreciated!


End file.
